


nobody does it like smarty does

by preciouspeterparker



Series: good ole fashioned luster boy [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (occasionally), Aftercare, All consensual!, Anal Sex, Avengers Orgy, BDSM, Bi Peter Parker, Bondage, Bottom Peter Parker, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Edging, Feminization, Gay, Gay Sex, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Kinky, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgy, Other, Overstimulation, Pet Play, Peter is Legal, Peter is a Little Shit, Power Bottom, Power Play, Predicament Bondage, Prostate Milking, Punishment, Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Sexual Punishment, Sexual Torture, Slut-Shaming, Spanking, Sub Peter Parker, Team Sex, Teasing, Tickling, Top Steve Rogers, Top Tony Stark, Torture, Vibrators, can i tag pet play if peter wears cat ears once, consensual torture, it’s not my fault Peter is a whore, lots of sex!, peter is baby, pre-negotiated sex, so many tags im sorry, top avengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2020-12-13 19:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21003095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciouspeterparker/pseuds/preciouspeterparker
Summary: 18 year old Peter Parker is starting a new chapter of his life as a full-time Avengers Recruit and College Student. After moving out to live with his old mentor in the Avengers Compound, he stumbles into his childhood heroes (as well as teenage enemies) having sex on the couch.You could call it bad timing. Peter calls it Parker Luck.But, maybe, just this once it was a good thing.





	1. PROLOGUE

Move-in day was finally here. Peter Benjamin Parker, a recently graduated 18 year old boy, was starting a new chapter of his life. Not only is he moving out of his aunt’s apartment to be an indepedent college citizen, today’s his first day on his new job (and not the flipping burgers kind).

No, today, Peter is an Avenger. His dream his finally coming true. He can hardly contain his excitement. 

Glancing at his Starkwatch midswing, Peter is  _ way  _ earlier than expected. It took a lot shorter to pack than he’d expected (Peter can fit most of his belongings in his backpacks). 

He enters the premises with his new Avengers I.D. and walks up to the building. On the campus, there isn’t many buildings between here and the city, so he has a mile walk everyday, but he doesn’t mind. It’s practically nothing to him. 

Peter doesn’t even bother entering through the doors. He’s been invited here before. He spots the living room window and shoots a web. He stumbles through the window to find he’s not alone. 

“Hey--” Peter greeted, slipping off his mask upon his entrance. He set his backpack down and looked at the life on the couch before realizing he’d made a horrible, detrimental mistake of not using the door. 

Steve, pressed up against the couch, wore a panicked expression. On top of him, Bucky Barnes, angry as hell about the disruption, had a trail of saliva from his mouth to Steve's exposed penis. He glared at Peter over his shoulder. Steve was completely naked, and Bucky was missing a shirt. “I am so sorry to interrupt!” Peter cried in a panic, ripping his eyes off of Bucky’s figure. The man has a death stare, and Peter doesn’t want to make things worse than they already are. “I didn’t see anything. Nothing.” He backed up until his legs hit the wall. 

Peter didn’t stop until he backed himself out through the window. He fell back, letting himself fall for a few feet before clinging to the wall. He crawled away towards a safe room, the business quarters of the compound. Once inside, Peter entered the lab. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t interrupting anything this time. Tony and Bruce sat at their respective desks, deep in their work. Neither looked up at the sound of the door opening. 

“Hey,” Peter greeted, peering over Tony’s shoulder. “What’re you working on?” 

“Some adjustments to Bucky’s new arm,” he answered without looking. The second his name dropped, Peter froze. “Oh, whoa, you have beef with Barnes? If I have to put it behind me, so do you.” 

“Peter.” Bruce greeted kindly, joining them. “Bucky won’t do you any harm. He’s changed, so--” 

“Dr. Banner, that wasn’t it at all,” Peter said, shaking his hands frantically. They got the wrong idea completely. Peter might be a little… timid around him since they don’t have a positive experience together (the only time he’s met him was the airport fight), but he’s not scared of him. At all. (Maybe.) 

“Then what’s wrong?” Tony asked, perplexed. 

Peter didn’t know how to answer that. Was he supposed to admit walking in on him doing inappropriate things to Captain America on the couch? He didn’t even want to think about it. 

Peter shook his head. “Nevermind, forget it,” he said, practically begging. Desperate for a subject change, he asked, “Is my room ready? I know I’m early.” 

“Been ready,” Tony said, clasping his hands together. “Here, I’ll show you.” The lab door opened, but Tony stopped short. “Peter, where are your bags?” 

Confused, he looked behind him to see that his backpack was, in fact, not on his back. 

He left it in the living room. With… those two. 

Was Peter in the wrong here? He did show up unannounced. However it  _ is  _ a living room. 

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked, voice laced with concern. “You’re looking a little sick.” 

They began the walk to the elevator, down the stairs, until they reached the dreaded living room. “You’re not sick, are you?” Peter shook his head. “You can’t trust this kid. One time he called me at 3 am because he passed out on patrol due to too much furniture polish in his system.” 

Bruce opened his mouth to ask a question, but he didn’t bother. He opened the door to the living room and walked through. Peter had stopped in his tracks. 

“Hello?” Tony asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Peter.” Bruce had walked in normally. Managing a brave face, Peter stumbled into the living room. 

Steve and Bucky were nowhere to be seen. Peter scanned the living room, looking everywhere for a sign of the two. His backpack lay untouched. 

Tony laughed suddenly and clapped a hand against Peter’s back, causing him to jolt suddenly. “I see. Fanboy is pissing his pants.” 

Peter shrugged sheepishly. “I get to live with the Avengers,” Peter admitted quietly, a cheeky grin on his face. 

“You are an Avenger,” Tony said. Peter was still processing it. It really is a dream come true. This is what he’s always wanted. “Don’t get all worked up about it; I notified everyone that you’re here, so they should make an appearance soon enough.” 

An advanced notice would’ve kept his encounter from happening. Still, what the hell were they doing on the  _ couch?  _ Of all places. Tony has a million bedrooms, so why not use them? 

As if on cue, Steve and Sam walked in. Steve was  _ not  _ naked this time. He wore a pair of sweatpants and a tight under armour tee. Peter would’ve got distracted by the chest muscles if not for his facial expression. 

“Um,” Peter started, clearing his throat. He had no idea what to say to the either of them. Last time they met, they were fighting. He hadn’t seen them after that. His mind raced as his practiced greetings were lost to him. He was making a full of himself. He had no idea what to say. 

“You got any allergies?” Sam asked. Peter looked to Tony for help and found him smirking. “Relax, I’m not trying to poison you.” He studied him. “Maybe.” 

“Uh, no, sir,” Peter replied meekly. Besides an aversion to peppermint, but it wouldn’t kill him. 

“Furniture polish,” Tony offered, earning a sharp nudge from Peter. 

Bruce mouthed “don’t ask.” Sam didn’t, thankfully, and went behind the kitchen island to prepare dinner. Bruce chastised Tony for teasing, and they broke off into a tiny argument, leaving Peter alone with Steve. 

He couldn’t look at him without thinking of how they looked, the feral look in Bucky’s eyes, the possessiveness, how  _ good  _ Steve looked, naked and pinned under Bucky. 

Peter needed a slap to the face. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “for dropping by so abruptly. I should’ve given a heads up.” 

Tony, breaking away from Bruce’s scolding, waved it off. “You live here now, Pete. It’s fine. Relax. It’s chill here.” 

Peter struggled to keep eye contact with Steve. He waited for an apology, but he didn’t get one. 

The other Avengers started to filter in. Natasha and Wanda filtered in next. Clint dropped out of seemingly nowhere. 

As almost everyone arrived, Peter cleared his throat. “I’m, uh, Peter Parker. It’s nice to meet you all.” 

“Yeah, hi, Pete, we met,” Clint said, slinging an arm over Peter’s neck. “I’m Clint, aka Hawkeye. May remember me as best Avenger.” Peter made a face. “Anyways, you good at mario kart?” 

“Mario kart?” he echoed. “I love mario kart!” 

“No, Peter, you don’t want to play with him. He cheats,” Natasha said. Peter’d never spoken with her before. Not really. He had always admired her, but she scared him. This Natasha is one he’s never seen before. 

“I don’t know how to play it on the Switch, though. I never had one. Is that what you guys play?” 

“We have every console,” Clint said slowly. As if it was obvious. 

Of course the Avengers would be able to afford as many game systems as they wanted, but he didn’t know they even played. 

Peter was dragged over to the couches. While Sam prepared dinner, the rest sat around. Clint climbed up right where Bucky had been. The only empty spot… right next to him. Where Cap had been. Naked. 

“Do you need to lay down, Peter?” Tony asked. Nobody dared make fun of the comforting tone he took on with him. Peter didn’t appreciate it, though. He’s 18 now. All on his own. He doesn’t need a father figure or someone to hold his hand. “I can show you your room now.” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted, still not wanting to sit down on the couch. He couldn’t do this. This was a mistake. He doesn’t belong here. “Where’s the bathroom?” 

“There’s one in your room--” Tony said, but Peter was already gone. He was almost running. He knew his room or a bathroom had to be around here somewhere. The living quarters were all downstairs, but he can’t find any of them. Any bathroom will do at this point. He slips inside the first door he sees and shuts the door behind him. Quietly panting, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the door. 

Trying to regain his exposure, he takes a few heavy breaths. When he’s certain he’s not going to puke, he opens his eyes. 

_ Parker Luck.  _

Of all the rooms, of all the rooms in this  _ mansion  _ Peter picks none other than the bedroom of the Winter Soldier himself. 

How does he know, you might ask? Because he’s sitting on his bed glaring at Peter. 

Stunned, his jaw dropped. Bucky is showered now. He can tell from the way his wet black hair frames his face. He’s still shirtless with a few stray water droplets on his skin. 

Peter reaches for the doorknob and accidently breaks the door off the hinge. It falls with a loud thud, and Peter wants to die right then and there. 

In a few strides, Bucky has made it across the room. Wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, he braces his arm just above Peter’s head. He gulps. “You saw nothing earlier.” 

“Yep,” he agreed, shaking the tiniest bit. “Yes, as in I didn’t see… I didn’t look.” 

“Nobody can know about me and Steve,” he growled. “It’s a secret. Can I trust you with that, or am I going to have to  _ make  _ you stay silent?” 

Not wanting to know whatever the hell that meant, Peter nodded anxiously. “Of course! I’m very good about keeping secrets. You don’t have to worry, Mr. Barnes. No worries here.” 

“And you broke my door,” he added. “Disrupted my private life, broke into my room, ripped off my door… Are you trying to pick a fight with me?” 

“No, no fight,” he said, holding his breath. Bucky mumbled a “good” and backed off. “But to be fair you were doing it in a living room…” A sharp movement from Bucky made Peter back up. “I’m… I’m going to go. Bye!” 

He was going to die here. 

When he returned to the living room, it was dinner time. There were two empty seats to Tony’s left, and he took the closest one. He didn’t want to look like he was clinging to him, but he really didn’t know anyone that well. Besides Bruce and he’s on the other side of the table. 

“You liking it here so far?” Wanda asked, not addressing Peter by name. It took a moment for him to realize she was talking to him. 

He nodded. “I’m really excited to be living here.” He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound deeper than it really was. “Being an Avenger has been my dream for a while now. I look forward to living with you all.” 

Bucky arrived, taking the seat directly next to Peter. If he was upset by this, he didn’t show it. He didn’t show any emotion. He ate his dinner in peace. 

As soon as dinner was over, Peter washed the dishes for the night. He grabbed his lonesome backpack, followed Tony to his new room, and collapsed on the bed. 

  
  


Before she died, Aunt May would  _ always  _ go on walks whenever she was stressed. Working out to release endorphins is good for the soul. 

First thing in the morning, Peter dresses himself in his Midtown High gym attire and made his way into the Compound’s own gym. On the lower level, there was a lap pool with treadmills and weights upstairs. It was heaven for Peter; he’d never gotten to experience anything like it. The training rooms were gigantic. 

In order to shake off the previous day, he slipped on his headphones, the discount Skullcandy ones that only have one working earbud. He presses shuffle and puts a little dance in his step. Pushing open the doors to the gym, he makes his way towards the free space. He sets out a yoga mat before breaking out in his elaborate stretches. 

After stretching and warming up with some weights, he makes his way into the training room. Some mat time with the dummies would do him some good. He doesn’t get a chance to practice saves aside from the real thing. 

Peter is starting to think he needs to bring a bell with him everywhere he goes. 

There, on the floor, is Steve and Tony. No one’s naked this time, but Tony has his hands down Steve’s pants, and Peter is covering his eyes. “I am so sorry!” he apologized, running out of the room. 

As soon as he’s in the clear, he curses himself for walking in on them again.

Except, it was Tony this time… Steve was… 

He’s cheating on him. 

Peter groaned loudly. He didn’t want to get in the middle of this. He wanted to stay as far as possible from him. 

Damn Parker Luck. 

One thing he found is that the Avengers take family dinner deathly serious. Missing a dinner is punishable by death. 

Even so, Peter would rather die than go to dinner tonight. He’s been holed up in his room all day. Unable to bear looking any of the three in the face, he focuses on unpacking his bag, which took a whole fifteen minutes. 

It’s not even his first full day and Peter’s already ruining his chances of fitting in here. Without anywhere else to go, he sucks in a deep breath and walks out into the dining room. 

He can do this. He’s Spider-Man. He can do a dinner. He can do a dinner. 

The only empty seat is next to Steve and Bucky. 

He can’t do this. The second he lays eyes on Bucky, he wants to cry. He’s walked in on some terrible secret, one he’s not supposed to know about in the first place. Bucky wants him to forget he and Steve are a thing, but how can he when he saw him cheating? 

He should say something. He has to. But he can’t. 

“I haven’t seen you all day,” Tony says, smacking his food loudly. “Teenagers.” He shrugged. “What do you even do all day?” 

“What’d you do when you were a teenager?” Peter retorted in his defense. 

“Well, I--” 

Steve shook his head. “Tony, behave.” 

They were acting so… domestic. Peter stole a peek at Bucky to see if he noticed the obvious flirting between Steve and Tony, but he was in his own world. Oblivious to his unfaithful boyfriend. 

He wasn’t oblivious to the staring. Catching his gaze, he hardens his glare. Peter looks away instantly and picks at his plate. 

“I was gonna say studying,” Tony lied, meekly drinking his glass. “And a little bit of screwing. Like, this much.” He held up his fingers for emphasis. “Underage drinking.” “Tony!” “Don’t worry, Capsicle. Peter’s a good boy,” he said nonchalantly. “He doesn’t do that kind of thing.” “I can tell you’re a good kid,” Steve said, making an effort to be on his good side. Peter can’t tell if he’s faking it, but he doesn’t want it. He’s a  _ cheater.  _ He doesn’t even want to look at him. No one deserves to get hurt like that. 

“It must’ve been hard for you to move from your friends and family all the way out here,” Wanda cooed. “You poor thing.” 

“I’m 18. Full grown adult,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Not a baby.” 

Tony wasn’t going to drop the babying act. After dinner, they moved to the couches to test his mario kart skills. They ended up playing a couple different games. 

Finally, Peter was starting to feel a little more comfortable. Clint and Wanda are both nice to him. Maybe it won’t be so bad here. 

Tony and Steve are  _ snuggling.  _

Peter gapes, but nobody else seems to care. Bucky is too concerned by the book in his hand. 

He knows what he has to do. 

When everyone takes a snack break, Peter scoots over to Bucky. Taking a deep breath, Peter asked, “Mr. Barnes, can I talk to you outside?” 

They leave discreetly. No one pays them any mind. Peter pulls him into a room and slams the door behind them. “Yes?” Bucky asked impatiently. “I was in the middle of something.” 

“Um, I…. The thing is… Well, you see…” 

“Spit it out, kid,” he sighed, brushing some hair out of his face. 

Inhaling deeply, Peter decided to rip off the bandage. “I know you said you didn’t want me to talk about it, it being the thing I didn’t see… the other day. Again, I saw nothing, but, um, I also saw Steve and Tony… I saw them together. I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to know.” 

“Steve?” Bucky asked, breathless. “With Tony?” Peter nodded meekly. Without another word, Bucky was stomping off. Peter trailed behind the fuming man. “Wait, Mr. Barnes!” he grabbed ahold of his arm without thinking. Bucky in response picked up Peter and threw him against the wall. Recovering quickly, he chased after him. He was too slow. 

“You had sex with Tony?” Bucky asked, voice deadly quiet.

“Maybe I didn’t know what I was seeing!” Peter said abruptly. Oh, great. Now he’s the drama starter. He’s really off to a horrible start. 

“Really, Steve? After all we’ve been through?” Bucky asked, exasperated. 

Tony sighed loudly. “You saw?” 

Peter nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I had to tell him,” he apologized. “Did you know Steve and Bucky were together when you did it?” Now that it was out in the open, he might as well ask. 

Tony’s dissapointed face morphed into a shocked one and then into a fit of laughter. The others started laughing too. 

“Stop messing with him,” Steve hissed. 

“What’s happening?” Peter asked, completely lost. 

“How many hours did we go without him finding out?” Clint asked, already pulling out his wallet. 

“0. He found us the second he arrived,” Steve replied regretfully. “I’m sorry, Peter.” 

“Can someone please explain?” Some money was passed around. A couple high-fives. 

“We were  _ trying  _ to keep it undercover,” Steve sighed. “The Avengers are… close. Sometimes, to let off steam, we…” 

“Or when we want an unhealthy way of coping with dress…” Clint added. 

Steve finished, “We have sex. Lots of it.” 

Peter blinked a couple of times. “Um. What?” 

“I know it must seem weird,” Bruce said, biting his lip. “We promise to keep it to a minimum around you.” 

Still processing this information, Peter suddenly felt ashamed. Like a child. A stupid child who doesn’t understand anything. He’s out of his league here. “It’s your home,” Peter said, flushing. “I shouldn’t affect that. Please, act as you normally do.” 

Sam snorted loudly. “Oh, we definitely can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” Peter asked, voice a little more shrill than he liked. 

“Well… If you weren’t here, we’d be having sex right now.” 

Yeah. Peter was really out of his zone here.


	2. daddy issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kink negotiation

Peter tries not to think about it too much. 

He’s been living in the compound for a week now, and the number of times he’s walked in on something he shouldn’t be is in double digits. 

The horny bastards like to fuck all over the compound. Save the world so many times and you earned the right to do whatever the hell you please.

Still, it’s unconvient. Peter can’t get the glimpses out of his mind. They apologize profusely everytime. They crack jokes how they ruined Peter’s innocence, making him witness old men going at it. How they’ve scarred him. 

The only thing really bothering him is that he’s not invited. 

It was a stupid thought. Of course, nobody invites him. Why would they? Everyone here views him as a child. 

At first, he thinks he’s just overthinking it. He doesn’t actually want to have sex with men over twice his age. He’s just trying to prove himself to the others. 

Or at least that’s what he tells himself. 

The dreams start, and it becomes undeniable. It started with Bucky. Just… Bucky, the man who looks like he could snap him in half with ease. 

Peter’s having wet dreams about a former tortured Russian killing machine. Somehow that’s not as weird as the dreams about Tony… 

  
  


He shoots up in bed suddenly. His pajamas cling to his skin with sweat. There’s a tent in his pants, and Tony’s name dripped from his lips. 

This is a problem. 

He has to be brave. Show them he can be an adult too. If he’s going to be an Avenger, he has to be brave like them. 

He doesn’t have to wait too long for an oppurtunity. The others never miss a chance to bully Peter. A lot of them are starting to warm up to Peter’s presence, but the feeling isn’t mutual. 

Sam, for example, is a huge bully. “He put peppermint on my steak again!” Peter cried out during dinner. He made an awful face. 

Sam, feigning innocence, gasped, “Oh, you don’t like peppermint? I keep forgetting…” 

“Sam,” Bruce warned. 

Even Bruce, who was always nice to Peter, was starting to piss him off. He hated being defended. Babied. 

“I love peppermint,” Peter lied, choking down the steak with a horrid look on his face. He made eye contact with Sam the entire time. 

This. Means. War. 

A couple days later they’re trying to pick a movie. They tell Peter he can pick since he’s new. “Uh… It 2?” he suggested. 

“That’s a scary movie,” Bruce commented. “How about… A pixar movie?” 

“Seriously,” Peter sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m old enough to watch it.” 

Sam clicked his tongue. “Doesn’t mean you should.” 

“I pick that movie,” Peter said, but the remote was snatched out of his hand. 

“I’m not going to listen to you cry all night,” Bucky grumbled, tossing the remote to Natasha. “Pick something that won’t scar him.” 

“You already scar him,” Natasha said, scrolling through the titles. “Any of you ever heard of a lock?” Wanda laughed. She picked some Foreign film. 

Peter crossed his arms over his chest and sunk into the couch. Fine. He’ll just stand up next time. 

Eventually, he will. 

Maybe. 

His next chance comes up halfway through the movie when a full on sex scene plays. “Peter, look away!” he hissed. “You don’t need to see this.” 

“That’s enough, Mr. Stark!” he huffed. “Stop treating me like a virgin when I’m not!” He was, but they didn’t need to know that. He can watch a censored scene in a movie. He’s seen way, way worse. 

“Kid, your eigth grade pillow doesn’t count,” Tony snorted. 

Peter’s face flushed red. “I—“ He sighed heavily. “Stop treating me like a kid! I’m an Avenger now. You should treat me like the others! You—“ Peter was ripped from his spot to sit on Tony’s lap. Without warning, Tony planted his lips on Peter’s. Peter made a small noise as Tony put a gentle hand on the back of his neck and gave him Peter’s first French kiss ever. 

He pulled back after a couple of seconds and laughed at Peter’s shocked expression. “See, kid? Maybe in a couple years.” 

“You just shocked me,” Peter pouted, looking down at his lap. “Caught me off guard.” 

“Sure, Peter. Let’s just watch the movie.” 

Peter wasn’t having it. Mustering up all the courage he could, Peter sat up straight on his lap. “No, I’m a part of this team! I’m just as capable and mature as you guys! If you would just fuck me—“ His last word trailed off as he realized what he was saying. 

Tony raised an amused eyebrow. “You sure that’s what you’d want, Peter?” 

Peter had his hands clasped over his mouth. “I… Yes. Tony.” The name felt so wrong on his lips. “I know I can do it.” 

“Is that what I asked, though?” Tony asked, bouncing his leg, offsetting Peter so he had to grab his shoulder for stability. “Do you want this or are you trying to prove yourself?” Peter had asked himself the same question. 

“I want this.” 

“What do you want?” Tony asked, pressing his knee up against Peter’s groin. All eyes were on him, and he could feel the stares digging into him. 

He gulped before answering shakily, “I want… you.” 

Tony let out a laugh. “You have to be specific with what you want or you will never get it.”

There’s no way he was going to  _ say  _ it. He has a dignity to uphold. After a long period of silence, Tony ruffled his hair. “Maybe next time, squirt.” 

Peter stormed off to his bedroom and didn’t come out until the next day. 

  
  


He was very close to giving up. Very, very close. 

He’s been living in the compound for two weeks now. All proposition attempts have failed. The others still tease him every chance they get. 

Peter’s given up. In the middle of the night, Peter sneaks into the kitchen to grab a water. However, he stops short when he finds a glass of whiskey left there. He looks around. Nobody is nearby. 

… 

He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. 

Still, it’s tempting. Very tempting. 

_ “I was gonna say studying,” Tony lied, meekly drinking his glass. “And a little bit of screwing. Like, this much.” He held up his fingers for emphasis. “Underage drinking.”  _

_ “Tony!”  _

_ “Don’t worry, Capsicle. Peter’s a good boy,” he said nonchalantly. “He doesn’t do that kind of thing.”  _

_ “I can tell you’re a good kid,” Steve said. _

Peter grabs the glass and starts to drink. He doesn’t even get a sip down before he’s coughing. 

“And just when I was thinking you had balls.” Peter spun around to see a tired Bucky. “Can’t even get some of daddy’s alcohol down?” Peter fumed as Bucky snatched it right out of his hands. Bucky downed the drink easily before setting it on the table. “You’re too much of a good boy.” 

“No,” Peter said, shaking his head. Holding his ground. 

“‘No’?” he mocked. “You’re adorable, Peter.” There was something in the tone Bucky used that rubbed him the wrong way. His chest hitched, and he felt his face burn. “There it is. That face.” Peter watched him with careful eyes. “I can see right through you, virgin.” 

“M’ not a virgin,” Peter mumbled in his defense. He kept a safe distance between him and the super soldier. 

“Yeah. Right.” Bucky slipped from the room, leaving Peter alone with his words. 

_ You’re adorable, Peter.  _

Peter slapped his cheeks and tried to keep his words out of his head. 

***

Peter had an excellent plan. A smart boy. 

Just… seduce the Avengers. Easy, right? 

It’s a smart plan, but Peter doesn’t have the will to carry it out. 

Friday has called him down for dinner. He stands on the side of his bedroom door in a light pink bralette, framing his small tits, and a pair of pink and white boyshort underwear with white lace on the waistband. He topped the outfit off with thigh high pink and white socks, cupping his twink body. He was skinny and thin but muscular. Delicate, agile, flexible, but strong. 

“Boss is getting impatient,” Friday said. 

He couldn’t do this. What was he thinking? 

Peter looked himself in the mirror and bit his lip. He cursed at himself, turned around to grab his sweats when the damn door swung open, hitting the wall with a thud. 

“Kid, I am about to eat my--” Tony, stunned, stood in the doorway. “Oh.” 

Peter screamed in shock and dived for his blanket. “Mr. Stark! Knock next time!” 

“Dinner’s ready,” he said, snickering a little. He jabbed a thumb behind him. Peter wrapped the blanket around him further and motioned for Tony to leave his room. “Alright, alright, I’m going.” Before he left, he offered a smirk over his shoulder. “I like the outfit, Pete. Looks cute. Maybe a little mature for your age but cute.” 

He clenched his fist. He had enough of this. He was doing this, now or never. 

… 

This was a mistake. 

Peter walked on heavy feet as if they were filled with lead. He trudged one foot in front of the other until he arrived into the dining room. The Avengers were settled around the table, already making their plates. Peter’s empty seat taunted him. 

Tony looked up over the conversation. “Finally! We’re starving here.” If anyone noticed Peter was dressed in lingerie, no one mentioned it. Peter slowly walked to his chair before accepting his plate from Sam, who made direct eye contact with him and didn’t say anything. 

Dinner started, but Peter didn’t want to touch his food. He stared down at his plate, looking down at his panties. 

Oh, god. What did he do? What was he thinking?

There wasn’t any going back now. He reached across the table and grabbed the bottle of vodka in front of Bucky. He watched him carefully as Peter poured it into his cup. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tony asked. Peter was forcing him to look at him now. 

He stirred in his seat. He had to cross his leg over the other to hide himself. He scooted in closer to the table. “Having a drink,” he answered innocently, bringing it up to his lips, and this time, he drank a good bit before he was stopped. 

“Peter,” Tony said, eyebrows stern. “You know you’re not old enough to drink.” 

“I… I feel kind of left out,” he confessed. Anxiety spread throughout his body. 

“Well, you can drink in three years,” Tony said. “Just wait until then.” 

“I don’t drink either,” Bruce added softly, smiling. Peter frowned. 

“No, I mean…” Peter looked down at himself. “I’m not a child. I’m eighteen. Legal.” 

“Not for drinking,” Tony said. 

Peter bit his lip. “For sex,” he said. There. He said it. “You guys leave me out.” 

People started putting their plates in the dishwasher. Peter still hadn’t touched his. 

Tony leaned back in his chair in amusement. Steve, eyes wide, gaped at him. “Peter, we’re  _ way  _ older than you. Not to mention, more experience.” 

The rejection hit him hard in the face. “I… I’m sorry,” he apologized suddenly. Shame washed over him. He was done for. His shot with the Avengers was ruined. He was an absolute fool. 

“Wait,” Tony said, dropping his chin into his folded hands, “let’s see you give it another chance.” 

“Another chance?” Peter asked in confusion. 

Tony nodded. “Yeah. Ride Steve.” 

Steve shot Tony a shocked look, and Peter an even more shocked one. “Oh, Peter, don’t listen to Tony,” he said frantically. “I’d hurt you.” 

“You want me to… ride Mr. Rogers?” Peter repeated to make sure it was real. Tony nodded and gestured him to move. 

On staggering feet, Peter made his way over to Steve’s chair. With shaky hands, he made eye contact with him, waited for him to nod, and unzipped his jeans zipper. 

He swung a leg over his lap and stradled him. His nerves making him shaky caused him to stumble a small bit, but Steve was quick to place his large hand against his back. It left electricity against his bare skin. 

“A simple touch to your back and you’re  _ hard, _ ” Tony gasped, watching closely. Peter’s blush darkened. 

Gulping, Peter reached into his pants and pulled out Steve’s cock. Surprisngly, he was already half hard. Steve was trying not to look at Peter. 

Peter had dreamt about this. He knows what he needs to do, but he doesn’t want to move. 

Peter cupped his hands around the base of his cock and slowly worked him. As soon as Steve was hard, Peter froze. His entire body started to tremble on nerves. 

“Peter,” Steve cooed, “it’s okay, kid. You don’t have to.” 

He  _ wanted  _ to. He wanted to so badly, but he was so scared he couldn’t move. 

Tony sighed suddenly, and dissapointment washed over Peter. He was done for. “Mr. Stark, I can do it, please give me another chance.” 

“Well,” he said, sighing dramatically. “I guess there is  _ one  _ thing. Could be pretty interesting.” 

“Yes? Anything.” Desperate. He perked up on Steve’s lap, and Tony chuckled. 

“How familiar are you with Dom/Sub dynamics?” Tony asked suddenly. 

Peter was a little more familiar than the next guy. As a kid with daddy issues, he knew it damn well. He didn’t know what it had to do with anything though. 

“I know some,” he confessed softly. “Why?” 

“You  _ really  _ can’t see where he’s going with this?” Sam asked sharply, smiling to himself. “Baby boy isn’t cut for this.” 

“I… Can you explain a little more?” He knew what Tony meant, but he wanted to know the details exactly. It was terrifying and new. He wanted to make sure. 

“We’ll train you, fuck you, but there will be rules.” Peter nodded along. “Number one: you’ll answer to us. Follow all our rules.” 

“Your first rule is to follow the rules?” Peter asked, laughing softly. 

Tony leaned over and tugged his hair slightly. “Yes,” he said with a straight face. “Number two: no touching yourself without permission. Three: you have to be punished for failure to follow any and all orders. You will have a safeword.” 

Peter blinked in surprise, soaking in all this information. 

“You’re not lesser than us, Peter,” Steve said, gripping his shoulder tightly and staring at him. Peter could drown in those baby blue eyes. “But when we have sex,” god, that alone made Peter hard, “you will be submissive to us. If that’s too much for you, there’s no shame in saying no. There’s no pressure. If you say no, you’ll still be on the team.” 

Peter stiffened. Even Tony was looking a little out of place as if he overstepped. Steve rubbed circles into his back to comfort the boy. 

“Captain Rogers, how the hell am I supposed to say no when you’re doing that?” Peter asked, a frustrated look on his face. Steve looked down at the squirming hard Peter in his lap. His hand didn’t still his movements. He continued to touch Peter’s bare skin, sending fire throughout his body. 

“Are you sure, Peter?” Steve asked carefully. 

“Yes,” Peter said, nodding quickly. “I am  _ so  _ sure. Yes.” 

Tony broke into a smile. “So eager. Easy virgin,” he said, motioning for him to calm down. “One more test for you.” Peter nodded. “What’re you into?” 

“Huh?” Peter asked. “Like… kinks?” Steve’s hand traveled down as he answered Tony’s questions. 

“Yeah. Like, you super into feet, or--” 

“No,” Peter said, scrunching up his nose. “Not that I’m shaming anyone, but… No thanks.” Tony smiled and motioned for him to continue. “Um, well…. I-I guess, I mean sometimes I, I mean…” 

“Okay, let’s try this. I say a kink and you give me an answer.” 

Peter could do that. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good boy,” he praised. Peter beamed. “Oh, well, praise kink is a yes.” Peter blushed. “Humiliation?” Peter nodded. “I want verbal answers, Pete. Show me you have some balls. Tell me what you like and how you like it.” 

Gulping, he replied, “Well… Sometimes I think about… Sergeant Barnes…” The man in question looked up in surprise, shocked to hear his name. Amused, he waited for him to finish. Even the others looked surprised when he said his name. Peter’s face darkened even more. “I…: 

“Spit it out, Webs,” Tony encouraged. 

“Spanking me?” he said, wincing as he said it. Apparently it was the right answer because Bucky’s face broke into a grin. 

“That’s not much of a punishment if you like it too much.” Tony hummed. “Overstimulation?” 

“If I’m bad, yes,” Peter stammered. “But if I’m a good boy, then no.” 

Tony’s grin spread. “What else do you want when you’re good, Peter? Would you like being tied up? Gagged? Bound at our mercy?” 

“Anything you want,” Peter said. 

A predatory smile. “Oh, baby, you’re going to regret that.” His words went straight to his dick. Peter couldn’t sit still on Steve’s lap. Steve moved his leg and applied pressure against Peter’s crotch. “Calm down, Peter. You’re too excited.” 

Peter was  _ shaking  _ in his lap. Heat pooled in his stomach, and he was overcome with a need to be touched. “Please,” he said suddenly. 

“You only get what we give you and nothing else,” Steve said sternly. “No complaining, either. I may let you beg.” 

“Yes, sir,” he said, nodding eagerly. “I accept.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chap will have smut, i promise! hang in there guys! kinks will be in tags before each chapter (feel free to request some too and i'll try. i have alot planned)


	3. sweater weather

Tony was an extra human being. He was rich, so he could afford to do whatever the hell he wanted. With that, he could build large bedrooms to accomodate a large amount of people in one bed. 

Peter felt like a mouse in the palm of a tiger as he sprawled across the bed. Tony, Steve, Bucky, and Sam were the only ones with Peter in the room. He slowly sat up from where he’d been roughly thrown on by Steve. 

His innocent brown eyes blinked a few times. Tony pulled up a chair and sat in it backwards with his stomach up against the back of the chair. He rested his chin on the top and ordered, “Touch yourself.” 

Peter anxiously looked to the others in the room. Everyone was staring at him, eyes devouring his body. Bucky’s face was hard to read. Steve looked almost guilty. 

Peter cupped his hand against his underwear, hesitating to expose himself to the fully clothed people in the room. He looked to them for help, and Steve came to his rescue. 

“You look adorable,” Steve said, calming down Peter. More comfortable and a little more embarrassed (in a good way), Peter snuck a hand into his panties and grabbed his cock. He twitched, underestimating how good it was going to feel. “How you feeling, Princess?” Peter must’ve taken too long to form a response because Steve cupped his cheeks and pulled him in close, less than an inch from his face. Forehead against his, he said, “Speak up, baby. We can’t make you feel good if you don’t tell us what you like.”

“Captain Rogers,” Peter started, voice breaking off. Steve let go of his chin and traced the side of his neck. “I…” Steve pressed his nose against his neck. Peter curled into the contact of Steve’s hot breath as he grazed his ear. He stayed there, teeth hovering over his ear. Peter was immobile aside from his hand, which was lazily stroking his own cock - slow enough so he wouldn’t lose control. He lost control the second he propositioned himself, though. There’s no going back from this. 

“Shh,” Steve hushed so  _ close  _ to him. Peter was drowning in his scent. Steve’s hand dipped into his underwear. Without consciously thinking about it, he spread his thighs to give him more room. He heard Tony chuckle, but he tried not to pay him any attention. It wasn’t that hard to ignore him with Steve’s hand and mouth taking up the majority of his focus. “Relax. Just… breathe.” 

Peter could do that. He could breathe. He took in a few deep breaths, fluttering his eyes shut as Steve pressed a kiss to his cheek1. He kept his forehead against Peter’s cheek and jerked his cock with one hand. His other hand dug itself into Peter’s messy curls atop his head and pulled gently.

“Look at that  _ face, _ ” Tony sighed suddenly. When Peter opened his eyes, the others were practically drooling. He knows what he must look like: a complete mess. His thigh high socks wrapping his slender legs, soft milky white skin laced with a women’s bralette, and his panties tugged down to his thighs, exposing his leaking virgin cock, shamefully close already. “Oh, kid, you’re fucking perfect.” 

Peter mewled at that, a high-pitched squeak. Peter’s hands flew up to cover his mouth. His eyes widened, showcasing a small tear forming in his muddy brown eyes. “I-I,” he stammered, squeaking  _ again  _ when Steve squeezed the base of his cock. He clamped down on his mouth harder. A tight grip engulfed his wrist, and he resisted it. 

“What, want to be gagged that badly?” Sam said, crossing his one leg over the other. He was leaned back in his chair next to Bucky, who was still unreadable. He just looked bored. 

Peter’s eyes widened, looking to Steve again. Steve pulled away from Peter’s neck to glare at Sam. “No gag,” Steve said.

Relief washed over him. A gag was the last thing he wanted right now. He could stop himself from making stupid noises. He didn’t need some gag, nor did he want to wear one. “Thank you--” 

“I like hearing his pathetic little noises,” he complimented in a sweet tone but the words didn’t match. Peter bucked up into his hand with curling toes. On reflex, his hands, not allowed to cover his mouth anymore, flew down to grab Steve’s hand. “I know what you’re going to say next, and no, I am not going to handcuff him.” 

“Might need to,” Tony said. Peter’s back arched, a signal he was going to come way too soon. Steve reacted fast enough, pulling his hand away and out of his panties. Peter reeled at the loss, like a bus crashing into him. “I would’ve.” 

“Oh, come on,” Bucky spoke, backing up Steve. “Watch him try and hold himself back and  _ fail  _ without the restraints.” 

He was completely right. Bucky, the unreadable man, saw straight through Peter, who was doing everything in his power not to jerk himself off right then and there. He let out a small whine, earning him a gentle touch from Steve. He gave nothing more than a simple press against his underwear, but it was enough to make Peter jolt. 

“Why… why did you stop?” he asked with teary eyes. 

Steve pressed a kiss to the escaping tear and chuckled gently. “Oh, Pete,” he sighed, “I did it because I  _ could. _ ” 

Peter couldn’t hide his shocked expression. “You’re… You’re so cruel,” he said. “That’s so mean, Cap!” 

Tony barked out a laugh. “Parker,” he said, “he’s the  _ nice  _ one.” 

If this is what the Avengers considered nice, he didn’t want to know what they were like when they were indifferent. God forbid he find out what they’re like when they’re mean.

As things go, Peter found out soon enough. 

They left Parker there that night and sent him to bed with no relief. He took a cold shower and forced himself to sleep. 

  
  


Peter Parker sat up suddenly in his bed. His pajamas clung to his skin. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face. Out of breath, Peter stumbled to calm himself despite the aching pain from his penis. 

Whatever he had dreamed about had long left his mind, leaving him alone with a painful boner. He settled upon thinking of unpleasant thoughts before splashing his face with cold water. 

Nothing seemed to help much. Usually when he felt like this, he’d crank one out. Between his teenage boy tendencies and the spiderbite enhanced hormones, he’d get crazy horny over the stupidest things. Not being able to jerk off made him dizzy with need. 

Today was Saturday. He had no school, no police alerts, no plans. Sighing, he climbed out of bed and pulled his old Highschool gym uniform on. Wearing his Midtown sweatshirt with the basketball shorts, he made his way up towards Tony’s gym. 

For once, no one was fucking on the gym mat. He was completely alone. 

Smirking to himself, Peter slipped his headphones over his ears and walked into the ballet studio. He learned from dinner a few nights ago that this room is most oftenly used by Natasha. He doesn’t know much about ballet, but dancing relieves his stress. It’s not much of a workout, but it helps. 

After twirling around the room to a couple songs looking absolutely ridiculous, Peter practices his flips. It’s effortless for him, but he still has to perfect his technique. After a long string of backflips, Peter lands on his feet and reaches for his phone to change the song. He’s scrolling through his songs one moment, but the next thing he knows is he’s being pushed up against the wall. 

“Don’t you have future vision or something to prevent this?” a voice drawled in his ear. “Or did you just  _ let  _ me have you?” 

“Sergeant Barnes, my spidey sense only works against real threats,” he replied. Bucky’s flesh hand cups Peter’s neck and squeezes. 

“You’re not scared of me, Parker?” he snarled. Peter gulped - not out of fear but of excitement. Yes, the man intimidated him to his soul, but he’d never hurt him. Well, not nonconsensually anyways. “No? Maybe we should fix that.” 

Peter took a deep breath and readied himself for Bucky to touch him. The hand around his neck slowly slipped off. 

Then, the door slammed shut. 

When Peter turned around, he was nowhere in sight. 

An hour later, a freshly showered Peter wandered into the kitchen for a post workout snack. Seated across from Sam at the island, Steve downed a protein shake. They were both laughing when Peter walked in. “Oh, good morning,” Peter greeted, not quite being able to look Steve in the eyes after yesterday. He kept his eyes glued to the floor as he walked by. 

“Morning, cherry boy,” Sam asked, a shit eating grin across his face. “Sleep well?” 

What would’ve been a caring question if heard by any passerby was actually a sly jeer. Peter most certainly did not, and Sam knew damn well. “I did,” Peter lied, sticking his nose in the air as he dug through the pantry. He pulled out a pop tart and turned to scurry away but he was stopped by a wall. 

“Oops,” he said, “I’m sorry, Cap--” Regaining his composure, Peter started to look up at the man he’d just ran into before he was picked up by his thighs and thrown on the counter next to Sam’s plate.

“We don’t like liars here,” Steve said. “You’re telling the truth, right, Peter?” 

Peter cleared his throat. He looked away from the towering man. “Yes, sir.” 

Steve grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him. Peter gulped, going impossibly still. Steve kept him there immobile before breaking into a small smile. “Good,” he said at last, placing his hand in between his legs, inches away from Peter’s groin. “Sorry, the bags under your eyes made me think different.”

He couldn’t hold back a devastated sigh when Steve left him there atop the counter. “How come you haven’t been sleeping?” He leaned in close, mouth against his ear. 

Steve spread warmth wherever he went. When he touched him, electricity shot throughout his body. He left a burning fire wherever he went. Peter  _ burned  _ like he never had before. 

With a brain reduced to a pile of goo, he replied, “Just haven’t been sleepy.” 

“Nuh-uh,” Steve said, tracing circles into his inner thigh. “Be honest with me.” His teeth lightly bit his ear. “Tell me how you can’t sleep because you’re so desperate for my touch.” Peter’s spine stiffened, wanting to bury himself in the other man’s warmth. “Tell me, Peter.” 

“It’s hard to get my mind to stop,” he admitted at last, carefully leaving out any details. He had hoped it’d be enough to satisfy the old man, but he should’ve known better. 

“You can’t focus?” Steve asked, edging him on. “Too busy thinking of naughty things, huh?” He tapped his chin, a silent command for Peter to meet his eyes. “Well, we can’t have that now can we.” Something mischevious danced in his baby blue eyes. A smirk followed close behind. 

Then he kissed him. 

Peter remembers his first kiss. Freshman year of highschool, not that long ago. His first ever homecoming with a girl, Michelle. He’d kissed her that night, and she kissed him back. 

It was nothing like this. 

He trapped his bottom lip with his own and held it there. His eyes fluttered shut, so he could lose himself in the moment. A hand creeped up to the back of his neck to hold him steady. Peter reached out hesitantly, gripping on to Steve’s waist. He let go of his bottom lip and envoked him again. He pulled away. 

In a confused panic, Peter opened his eyes. He pulled his hands to his side in surrender. 

_ Oh shit, oh shit,  _ he thought, just knowing he was a terrible kisser. He’s having his second real kiss ever, and he’s fucking it up. 

Not to mention, Steve’s had so much better. With all his past loves? He has people crawling to him on their knees. 

And he’s kissing Peter. Of all people. 

A thumb stroking his lip interrupted his thoughts. “Relax,” he instructed, smiling slyly. His panic slowly left him - his shoulders deflated. Peter blinked a couple times in surprise. 

Steve kissed him again. His hands rooted in his hair, tugging him closer. A small moan left his lips, earning him a dark chuckle. “Note taken,” he said, pulling on his messy brown locks. He spoke softly, breathing into his mouth. 

He was overwhelming. So, so, so unbearably close. Peter reached out again to lock his hands around his neck. Steve brushed his lips against his, not quite kissing him. He whined in response. 

“He wasn’t kidding,” Sam spoke, breaking the tension in the room. Peter opened his eyes to face a surprised Steve. 

His eyes were blown wide in a stunned look. Peter cocked his head towards Sam in confusion. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, breaking out into a smile that made Peter go weak. “You’re in for a  _ long  _ ass day.” To help aid his confusion, Steve glanced down at his lap. 

Clueing in, Peter’s face turned red. 

He was hard. 

Feeling the need to defend himself, he crossed one of his legs over the other. “You’ve been teasing me like crazy!” he said, turning away from Steve. 

“Oh, baby,” Steve cooed, capturing him with an arm around his waist, “we’ve barely even  _ started. _ ”

“That’s not fair,” he whined. 

“It’s not, is it?” 

Uh oh. “Uh… no?” 

“You agreed to this,” he said, leaning back. “Is it too much for you after all?” 

“No, no!” he said, reaching out. “Really, Captain Rogers! I’m okay. I’m good, really.” 

“Then don’t bitch about it,” Sam snarled, shocking Peter. He looked to Steve to see if he looked offended on his behalf, but he was indifferent. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized suddenly, jumping off of the counter. Before he could evacuate the room, a sharp slap to his ass stopped him. 

“You don’t have to call me Captain Rogers,” Steve said. 

“Oh, okay--” 

“Master will do just fine.” 

Peter stopped, taking a double take. “W...What?” 

Steve broke out into a grin. “I’m kidding, Peter.” 

The title shouldn’t affect him so much, yet he’s still hung up over it. “Right,” he said at last, pulling himself away from the scene. Desperate to escape, he spun on his heels and fled the room. 

“Remember, no touching yourself!” Sam called after him, cupping his hands to his cheeks. 

Peter wasn’t fast enough. Vulnerable in the hallway, still hard, he was only a few feet from his bedroom when he ran into Bucky. 

His hair, darker than usual from his shower, was swept over to the right side. He wore sweatpants and a black tank top - his arm and chest muscles threatening to break the material. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, moving to brush past him, but he was entirely trapped. Bucky was blocking the hallway to his bedroom, unintentionally. 

Bucky’s eyes followed him down, and from the smile on his face, he knew what he saw. Peter’s blush darkened, and he charged forward to move past him. Bucky was quick on his feet, pinning him against the wall. 

“What’s wrong, Parker?” he drawled, hands on both sides of Peter’s face. “Someone got your panties in a twist?” 

Bucky’s leg came forward, pressing in between Peter’s legs to apply pressure on his hard on. Peter winced and leaned into it involuntarily. 

“Please,” Peter said, not quite knowing what he was begging for. 

“You should see yourself,” he said, metal hand gripping ahold of his waist as his other hand traveled up his shirt in the opposite direction of where he wanted Bucky’s hand to go. “Maybe I’ll let you, if you’re good. Fuck you against a mirror so you can see yourself, see how  _ ruined  _ you look. Would you like that?” 

When Peter didn’t answer right away, Bucky pinched his nipple. Peter squeaked in response, brushing his hips against Bucky. 

“That’s not being a good boy,” he chastised, hiking his shirt over his head so his teeth can sink into the soft spot of his neck. “Really, you can’t control yourself over a little bit of teasing?” 

“A little bit?!” Peter exclaimed. Bucky sucked at the skin, intent on leaving a mark. Bucky moved on to the other side of his neck to give it the same treatment. “It’s torture!” 

Bucky hummed, pulling away. “Torture, huh?” 

“Yes!” Peter cried in disbelief. “It’s driving me insane!” 

“You want me to touch you?” 

“Yes,” Peter replied way too quickly. Elated that he was finally getting what he wanted, he bucked up against Bucky. Peter’s shorts were tugged down to his knees, freeing his hard cock. “Wait, sergeant Barnes, we’re in the hallway!” 

“You wanted me to touch you, didn’t you?” he asked gruffly. 

Peter paused. He did ask for this. He really needed this. 

He looked over his shoulders. Anyone could be inside their room right now. Anyone could walk out of their room and see him. 

He tried to find it in him not to care. Right now, in this position, being caught didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. Not as long as he got what he wanted. 

It was a risk he was willing to take. 

“Yes,” he breathed back, consenting. 

Peter was hoisted up with his back against the wall. He wrapped his legs around Bucky’s midsection. His cock brushed against his tank, and he bucked up. 

A harsh slap to his ass ceased his movements. “You only get what I give you.” 

“Yes,” he nodded. “Just, please--” 

“Please, what?” he asked, not moving. 

“Just… Touch me.” 

Bucky did. His hand reached up towards his nipple, and Peter cried out, “Stop teasing me!” 

Innocently, Bucky pinched him. “I’m doing what you requested, princess.” 

He knew what he wanted him to say. 

He just didn’t want to say it. 

“My dick, Sergeant Barnes!” he yelled, the tiniest bit frustrated. 

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at his anger. Pissing him off seemed to be a favorite pasttime for him. 

It turned out to be worth it, though, because he did finally wrap a loose hand around the head of his cock. 

And that was it. 

Bucky didn’t seem too keen on moving then. Peter mustered up all the strength he had not to thrust up into his hand. “Good boy,” he praised, sending a shiver down his spine. His patience was rewarded with a tightening grip. A punched noise escaped his lips. “We’re just too cruel to you, aren’t we?” 

His grip ever so slowly slid down his cock to the base. “Yes!” he yelped, eyes squeezing shut. “It’s torture!” 

Bucky tsked, giving him three more excruciating slow jerks before letting go. “Wrong answer,” he said, releasing his hold on Peter. He sunk to the floor on wobbly knees, having to lean on the taller man for support. 

Peter half laughed-half cried in disbelief. “Whahat?” he asked, tilting his head back. 

“You have a lot to learn.” Just like that, Bucky left him there, pants down at his knees, aching and hard. 

He pulled his pants up quickly and hissed at the fabric against his cock. 

Slamming his bedroom door behind him, Peter collapsed on his bed. Cringing on his stomach, trying to resist the urge to grind against his mattress, he rolled over. 

God, he was going mad. 

He was exhausted for one, not being able to focus on anything other than sex. It made his head go dizzy. Even looking at his phone made him feel dizzy. 

Peter was a smart boy, though. As always, the others don’t give him the credit he deserves. 

Tony had been the one to take him up on his offer. It was because of Tony he was even put into this situation. 

And he’d be the one to fix it. 

Peter rummaged through his drawers until he found what he was looking for: one of Tony’s old sweatshirts he had snagged a while ago. Next, he slipped off his pants, which were uncomfortably sticky with precome. He opted for a short pair of Star Wars boxer briefs, ones that hugged his hips just right. 

Dressed to his satisfaction, he went to the lab. Tony was drowning in his work as usual. Music was blasting - a clear indicator that Tony was on a roll. He stood in the doorway for a moment, hesitant to interrupt him. 

He almost thought about turning around, but as soon as Tony turned, his heart stopped. 

He was absolutely breathtaking. 

Fantasies were a dangerous thing, indeed. Peter had to admit: when he was his student, he’d often daydream about him. Often when he’d explain something, his mind would drift off. 

It’s a confusing thing when you start dreaming about your childhood idol that way. 

And also insanely hot. 

Tony wiped the oil off of his forehead. Dropping a tool down on the table, he smiled. “Peter, come see what I’ve been working on!” Peter obeyed, flocking to his side. Tony breezed through the explanation, which really would’ve been interesting, really. Peter would’ve loved to listen. 

But he couldn’t. 

He just couldn’t. 

“What do you think?” 

His attention snapped to Peter away from his tech. Peter lifted himself up on the desk and crossed one leg over the other. “I think…” he trailed off, smiling coyly, “you should take a break.” 

Amused, Tony leaned back. “Oh, yeah?” he hummed. 

“Yeah,” he said. Bubbles of excitement rose to life in his belly. 

_ Finally.  _

“I think it’d do you some good.” 

“It would?” Tony grabbed one of his toolboxes and set it aside on the desk. He opened it, back of the lid facing Peter so he couldn’t see the contents. “How lucky am I to have such a selfless pet.” 

He didn’t miss the sarcasm in his voice. 

“Don’t think for a second I miss what goes on in my compound,” he said. “You’re not as sneaky as you think.” 

Pouting, he slouched, not yet giving up. 

Never underestimate his puppy dog eyes. 

“Well, I learned from you,” he said, leaning forward. “You taught me everything I know, Mr. Stark.” 

Groaning, he titled his head back. “I thought we were past that, Peter.” 

“What’re you talking about?” he asked, feigning innocence. 

The name did the same thing to him as it does to Peter. 

Drives him  _ wild.  _

“Isn’t that how you like me?” he asked. “To treat me like I’m a child?” 

“Maybe so,” he said, setting his hands down on the desk, impossibly calm. “But you’re an adult now. Wasn’t that what you were trying to convince me? That you’re a big boy.” He pulled back the collar of his sweatshirt to prod at the marks Bucky had left. “Yet, here you are, being a  _ greedy little brat. _ ” 

“Then spoil me.” 

Reaching into the box, he tucked something under his clenched fist. “I’m not as nice as the others.” 

“On the contrary, you have a soft spot for me,” he said, smiling coyly. “You do; I know it.” 

Silent, Tony tapped his hips, motioning for him to hold himself up. His Star Wars boxers fell to the floor, leaving him bare aside from Tony’s sweatshirt on his workdesk. 

Tony cupped his half-hard cock and pulled over a silicon ring with a rectangle attached to it. 

“Is that a cock ring?” he asked curiously, looking at the odd purple toy. 

He didn’t know much, but he knows enough that it’s probably not a good thing. 

Tony isn’t answering. He slipped his yellow goggles over his eyes, grabbed his wrench, and turned back to his project. 

“Mr. Stark?” he called, but he got no response. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a purple remote. 

He felt it before he realized what was in his hand. 

“Mr. Stark!” he yelped, cringing as the vibrator pushed against his cock purred to life. It’d buzz five times then stop. Then it’d start again. 

Then it stopped. 

“Huh?” he asked, turning around. “You’re still here?” Peter groaned in frustration and confusion. “Did you want to work on this with me?” 

He hadn’t listened anyways. 

Sighing, he slid off of the desk. Once his feet touched the ground, the remote shot up in intensity, and he fell to the ground. 

If Tony was turned around, he’d see him trying to hide a chuckle. 

Peter grumbled, climbed to his feet, and scurried out of that damn lab. 

_ Spoiled brat my ass,  _ he thought.  _ Who’s that fucker think he is?  _

Upping in intensity way too much, the ring caused Peter to go swirling down the stairs, falling at the feet of Sam. 

Not in the mood for teasing, he grabbed ahold of the rail. He pulled himself up, but his legs were shaking too much. 

He slipped the trembling boy over his shoulder, slipped inside a room, and threw him on the bed. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long god and its short istg I'm trying \
> 
> in a hurry but uh yeah update soon maybe ok byeee


	4. w.d.y.f.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey uh warning sam and bucky are a lil cruel in this chapter

He’d always been wary of Sam. 

He was always out to get him in one way or another. He knew the fastest ways to get under his skin and quick. 

When he was with Bucky, he was that much more of a nightmare. They formed some sort of horrid team that aggrivated Peter to no end. 

Every time Peter made a mistake, they were there. They never missed a chance to get more blackmail material to bully him over. 

Having Sam, the man always out to get him, holding that dreaded purple remote in his hand… well, that’s a death sentence. 

Peter fell back on the bed as Sam climbed on top of him, holding the toy in his hand. Peter eyed it with dread. “Oh, you like it? Stark gave it to me.” Of course he did. He’s not surprised at all. “Didn’t say what it did, though. You have any idea?” Experimentally, he upped the dial, and Peter cried out. 

Without thinking, Peter reached up to grab it out of his hand, but Sam was expected it and pulled away. “Something bothering you?” 

Not wanting to complain (he learned earlier, it’d only cause him more trouble), he shook his head. “No, not at all.” He meant to say it as casually as possible, but a little venom found its way inside somehow. 

“You that scared of me?” Sam asked, lightly trailing a finger down his torso. 

“What? I’m not scared of you.” That one wasn’t a lie. 

“You’re not?” 

“No!” 

“Then why are you shaking?” 

Peter fell silent, chewing on his lip. Impatient as ever, Sam clicked the dial, and Peter jolted forward. Sam pushed against his lower stomach to keep him steady, but it didn’t do much to contain his shaking. Actually, the contact did the exact opposite, and he bucked up against him. 

“Is this all it takes to make you shut up?” he asked, experimentally bringing his hand up his torso away from where he wanted it to go. He snuck a hand under his shirt to swipe across his hard nipple. Peter yelped, eyes squeezing shut. Sam sighed. “I take that back.” He circled it a few times before pinching it while his other hand rested against his inner thigh. “You can’t shut up, can you?” 

He didn’t know if he was supposed to answer that or not, but last time he ignored a question he upped the dial. “Not when you’re doing that!” 

“Doing what?” he asked coyly, knowing just what he’s doing. 

“You—I—You know—“ he stammered, face flushed red. He grabbed ahold of the sides of Sam’s shirt in a fit of anger and pulled him down so he could roll on top of him but not before Sam could click the remote to its highest setting before throwing it across the room. 

Peter crumbled against Sam, all plans falling short. He put a weak hand on his chest to hold himself stable, but it took everything in him to not collapse right there. 

Even when he’s pinned against the bed, he’s still in power. “You know exactly what,” Peter grounds out barely, voice coming out all strangled. “And I’m done with it. It’s my turn.” 

“It didn’t take long for you to snap,” Sam says, indifferent as Peter tries to remember everything that’s been done to him and everything he’s seen in porn. He doesn’t even know where to start. “Well? It’s ‘your turn’.” 

His taunt snapped Peter out of his thoughts, but he still couldn’t move. 

_ I’m in control,  _ he told himself. The cock ring was making it impossible to focus — especially when Sam is taunting him from underneath him. He rolls the ring off of his cock, the thing spazzing out in his hand. 

He tosses it to the side and frees his aching cock. It’s hard against his stomach and leaking precome. 

“Holy shit, kid,” Sam says, laughing. “Couldn’t help yourself?” 

“Shut up,” he growled, unbuttoning Sam’s shirt with shaky fingers. He took his time with each button — his hands couldn’t stop shaking enough to open it and also he wanted to stall while he came up with a plan. 

He pulled back his shirt cautiously before bringing his mouth against his nipple. He snickers mischievously before kitten-licking it. He sits upright and lets out a deranged, “Hah-Ah!” However, Sam isn’t at all stunned. If anything, he looks even more amused. “Oh, come on—!” 

“I’ve had enough of this,” he decided, bringing his knee up off the bed. He pressed it against Peter’s crotch, who in turn collapsed against it. “Let me remind you of your place.” 

He let Sam manhandle him and push his face against the bed. He let him grab his arm and twist it back behind him. “ _ This  _ is where you belong.” 

Peter’s reply was muffled against the mattress, which was for the best for him. Sam ignored it, keeping a firm hand in his hair to keep it on the bed while his other hand got to work. 

Sam delicately swiped his thumb over Peter’s hard cock. He pulled his head up off of the mattress before remembering where it was supposed to be. 

“You can’t follow simple orders, can you?” He sighed, sounding exasperated. Shame burned at his cheeks, and he lowered himself back down. “Stay still.” A sharp slap to his ass sent him forward. Another sigh. “To the best of your ability, anyways.” 

He was glad he couldn’t see his face. 

When Sam grabbed his cock again, he let out a strangled moan. He needed him to keep going so so bad. He loosely cupped his hands around it and slowly jerked him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. 

When the familiar vibrations returned, all hell broke loose. “Mr. Wilson, please, please--Fuckin’ hell, fuck!” Peter let out a sharp gasp when warmth pressed against the head of his cock. He alternated between brushing the vibrating ring against his length and mouthing his cock. 

He left him entirely. Peter pushed back against him desparately. “Such a dirty mouth,” he tsk’ed. “I’d expect nothing less than a teenager.” 

“Okay, boomer,” Peter retorted, rolling his eyes. 

Sam stopped. 

Peter stopped. 

“You know what, Mr. Wilson, I--” 

“You got jokes now?” 

“Nope, no jokes,” he said quickly, shaking his head. He pushed himself up on his forearms. “No jokes, Mr. Wilson. Just, please, I need you to touch me, fuck--” 

“I’m just a boomer,” Sam said simply, shrugging. “What do I know?” 

_ Peter really screwed the pooch this time.  _

Without warning, Sam engulfed his cock to the base and swallowed around it. Peter inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss before the warmth left him all at once. 

“Fuck,” he said, deflating as the waves rolled away. His forehead crinkled in defeat. 

The familiar cock ring, still vibrating, returned on a different setting, randomly buzzing to keep him guessing. He couldn’t get too familiar with it nor could he get any closer to getting off. 

“I almost thought of letting you come,” Sam said, and Peter flinched so violently as if he was hurt. 

“Please, please, fuck, Mr. Wilson,” he cried, his eyes starting to water. 

Sam left his cock completely, grabbing a fistful of his messy brown locks. He yanked his head off of the bed, and Peter screamed. “Please let me come!”

Peter felt dizzy, like he was in another world. The vibrations and the gropes and the kisses kept him grounded, kept him stuck here in the torture. 

Was torture the right word? 

“You have my permission.” 

Yes, yes, yes! Thank god.

The vibrations brought him closer and closer, and he thought he was there, he really would be with one simple touch - even with the ring holding him back. He was so, so close, but not quite there. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Peter let out a warbled cry at the realization he wasn’t going to come like this at all - even with his permission. 

“Mr. Wilson, please, just touch me,” he cried out. 

“Kids these days are so ungrateful. Back in my day, if we got permission to come, we would, not ask for more.” 

It’s official. He hates Sam. 

“Can I...Fuck, please, at least let me touch myself?” he asked. 

“Manners are atrocious, too. This generation…” 

“Oh my god--” His aggravation came out in moan when he was once again brought close but not close enough. 

Losing the last of his composure, he buried his face into the blanket and bit down to drown his screams. 

He was yanked up by his hair, exposing his screams. “I’m going to let you come, and you don’t even let me hear it?” 

Peter’s thighs were shaking. Sam was refusing to touch him at this point - aside from yanking his hair and slapping his ass when he moved too much. 

“Fuck, Mr. Wilson, please fuck me!” Peter screamed, an actual scream as if his life depended on it. He couldn’t keep his voice down when he was at the end of his line. “Please, fuck, fuck, touch me!” 

“Did I teach you nothing earlier?” 

_ Twice. Peter, you’ve screwed the pooch twice now.  _

Sergeant Barnes. 

“Hey, Bucky,” Sam greeted cooly, as if Peter isn’t falling apart on his bed. 

“Hey,” he greeted back. “I could hear Peter. Sounded like he’s giving you a hard time.” Peter chose not to comment on how backwards that was. 

“Thin walls,” Peter grumbled out, always able to keep his humor in check. 

“Oh, you have no idea. I was outside,” Bucky said. “So, what’d he do this time? He break a rule, already?” 

“No, he has permission to come,” Sam said simply. “He’s just being ungrateful.” He leaned in. “Called me a boomer.” 

“Oh my god,” Peter cried in defeat, sniffling. Even as the vibrations paused, he knew they’d just start back in another moment. “I… I can’t…” 

“Let me get this straight: I give you permission to come, and you don’t even say thank you. And, then, you don’t even come? I… Can you believe him, Buck?” 

Peter let out a muffled cry against the bed. He bit down on the blankets again, knowing he was going to be yanked off but didn’t care. He was pulled up and then manhandled on to his back. Obscenely, Bucky grabbed his legs, forcing them open, exposing his poor, neglected cock and the vibrator at its base. 

Peter’s face was a mess. His eyes were red and he was drooling. His cock was leaking precome and becoming a harsh red color. 

“You’ve been so rude to Sam, doll,” Bucky says, testing how far Peter’s legs can go. Thanks to his spider powers, he’s as flexible as a ragdoll. They took note of this and have full plans to exploit him for that. “Don’t you think you should apologize?” 

“He’s the one teasing me!” he exclaimed, covering his face with his hand. “And so are you! And--” 

This is how it is. If this is how they’re going to play, he might as well play along. 

“I’m sorry!” he apologized, going limp against the mattress. “Thank you for giving me permission to come.” 

“Hm,” Sam hummed, not having it. 

“And--” Peter added quickly, “And, I’m sorry for calling you a boomer. Please, sir, let me make it up to you?” 

At that, Sam nodded. “Better. But, not now.” 

Peter made a confused face. “What? I thought that’s--” 

Bucky grabbed his legs and lifted him up. “Get that pillow for me.” Sam grabbed the pillow behind Peter’s head and slipped it under his ass so it was propped up for Bucky. 

“What’re you doing, Sergeant Barnes?” He got his answer when a warm tongue pressed against his asshole. 

  
  


“Aren’t you supposed to be apologizing to Sam right now?” 

“Huh? Oh--” Sam positioned himself over Peter’s chest. 

“What’re you waiting for? Suck me off.” 

“Right, yes, sir,” Peter said, taking advantage of his flexibility to suck him off at the awkward angle. 

Performing his first blow job was hard enough and even harder in this position, not to mention he couldn’t focus on anything because of the torment he was under. “Sir, may I use my hands?” Sam nodded, allowing the teenager to experiment with what he knew best. Handjobs. 

Sam’s vocal with him, making sure to tell him when he’s doing something wrong. “Slut, focus,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Are you listening?” 

Honestly, no. He’s not. 

Getting eaten out by Bucky will do that to a guy. 

Especially one who has been brought to the edge upteen times today. 

“Fuck, please, just fuck my mouth,” Peter begged.

Bucky added a gentle finger with his tongue, and Peter’s mouth flew open, which Sam took advantage of to bury his cock into. His cries were muffled with the fast pacing of Sam, fucking his cock in and out of his mouth. 

“Tap me twice if you can’t breathe,” Sam reminded him, the only decency he’s shown him all day. Peter nods, he knows. They made sure he knew. 

Bucky’s tongue explores his hole. His hands keep his legs spread for him to use. 

Sam comes quickly. “Don’t swallow.” 

Of course, Peter doesn’t. 

He pulls out of his mouth and slips his pants back up. 

Peter cringed at the taste in his mouth, but he doesn’t swallow. 

Bucky, nose buried in his ass, pulls back at last, and Peter would be crying if he wasn’t so focused on not dribbling any come. 

A tiny bullet vibrator is able to slip past his wet muscle from where Bucky’s worked him open. Peter’s eyes roll back as Bucky yanks him up. 

He’s waiting for him to be told to swallow, but the command never comes. The two of them keep their hands on him, touching him everywhere except where he needs. Just one touch to his aching cock and he’s there. 

Then, “Boss is requesting for you three.” 

Bucky smiled. “Perfect timing.” 

Peter shook his head as he was yanked off of the bed. The second his feet hit the floor, he fell to the ground. He couldn’t hold himself up with all the trembling. He raised a hand for help, but he was kicked instead. “Crawl, bitch.” 

With a mouthful of cum, Peter did. (Crawling was kind of his thing, anyway. Being a wall-crawler and all.) 

“We should get him a leash,” Sam says conversationally. 

“And a collar,” Bucky added. 

Peter stopped at the staircase, not wanting to crawl down it on his knees. Going up in a bear crawl would only be more humiliating, and he couldn’t have that. 

At his hesitation, the two were quick to act. Another kick against his backside sent Peter stumbling down the few steps. He landed on his stomach, careful not to swallow in the stumble. 

“If you lose the toy, you’ll be in more trouble,” Bucky warned, pressing his fingers against his asshole, pushing the toy back inside. It was a small thing, and it didn’t bury deep. Especially not when he was so poorly prepped. 

“Dinner’s almost here,” Tony informed them, covered in black oil. Seeing Peter, he grinned. “Hey, Peter.” No response. “Cat got your tongue?” 

“So rude,” Sam said. 

Peter didn’t see him reach into his pocket. 

He should’ve seen it coming. 

The small bullet in his asshole purred to life, and Peter couldn’t contain the cum in his mouth this time. It dribbled out, spilling all over his chin and chest before he could shut his mouth to keep the rest of it. With it came a pathetic moan. 

Peter couldn’t sit still at this point. He was still on all fours. The vibrator around his cock and the one in his ass wouldn’t allow him to relax. The tears started to stream down his face. 

“You poor thing, come here,” Steve said. Coming from the kitchen, he kneeled down to Peter’s level and captured his mouth in a kiss. Peter melted into it, letting him swallow the contents in his mouth. Steve pulled back, licked his lips, and went nose to nose with the panting Peter. 

“Please,” he said, voice all broken. “Let me come.”

“You know you can,” Sam said simply, shrugging. 

Peter shook his head wildly. “I can’t, I can’t--” 

He was pulled up to his feet by his hair. He stumbled instantly, but Bucky caught him. He trembled in his arms, relying on him entirely. 

His throat burned as he cried in earnest. 

“Kids these days are absolute whores,” Sam commented. 

Like this, he couldn’t even disagree with him. 

“Ungrateful, needy bastards.” 

Peter’s cheeks burned and he looked away from them, but Tony wouldn’t allow it. He grabbed him roughly by his chin and forced his gaze straight ahead. He had no choice to watch as Sam degraded him, while Steve left kisses on the inside of his thighs, while Bucky pinched his sides. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Peter cried, gasping harshly, not able to take it. “Fuck, oh my god--!” The waves built and built, and this time they didn’t go away. He was carried over the edge, and Peter cried through it. 

He slumped even heavier against Bucky, truly unable to stand on his own. The vibrations carried him through, and the waves went away. 

The vibrations didn’t stop. 

The tears didn’t stop. 

Peter’s whimpers didn’t stop. 

“Fuck, oh my god, please, that’s enough,” he cried pathetically, hips pushed forward to try and escape the vibrators on him. “Oh my god, please! Fuck!” 

“Shh,” Bucky hushed, consoling him. Peter buried his face deeper in his arms for comfort. 

“I...I...Please--” He was being moved. He let it happen, still shaking violently with the vibrations. His arms were guided over his head into a cuff link in the wall. “No… Sergeant Barnes, please.” 

“Do you need to safeword?” 

Peter shook his head no, but he kept crying. “No, please, don’t…” His other hand was cuffed above his head, and he let Bucky cuff him against the X board. 

Sam stood in front of him with his arms crossed. 

“Hey, dinner’s ready,” Steve announced, but Sam didn’t move. 

Hopeful, Peter looked to him, hoping he’d take some pity on him. “Mr. Wilson, please help me.” 

Hs scoffed. “You still didn’t say thank you.” 

Peter cried, “Please, it’s too much. I need a break.” 

“You should remember your manners next time,” is all he offered before taking his seat at the dinner table, leaving Peter to be the only one secluded. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck I'm sorry if this makes no sense I've been writing this shit all day and my brain is fried jc
> 
> pls leave a comment or kudos if u enjoyed, and thank you all for the sweet comments! they mean the world to me <3


	5. snap out of it

Peter was thankful for the cuffs. 

Without them, he’d be face down on the floor by now. His thighs  _ burn  _ as he struggles to keep himself upright. His hip comes off the wall to try and escape the ring around his cock, but he has nowhere to go. 

The bullet in his asshole hits the ground with a quiet  _ clack,  _ and Peter’s blood runs cold. He looks up at the others, hoping they haven’t noticed. 

Bucky’s going to kill him. 

The others are finishing up dinner. Clint’s going off on a tangent, one that must be interesting because it has everyone else quiet. Peter wished he’d listened, but he can’t focus on anything, even with the lesser of two evils now vibrating against the tile floor. 

He could break out if he really wanted to. If he needed to. 

But he doesn’t. 

He wants to be good and to obey, not to dig himself any deeper than he is already. 

So he stays, he listens, he obeys. 

Even as he trembles and cries. 

His eyes fluttered shut, no longer wanting to watch his torment. He falls slack against the wall, his back stretching from the cuffs. His body trembled with the vibrations, but he’s too exhausted to move. The bullet on the ground taunts him, a reminder he’s going to get in trouble. 

Then, a chair scraped. His heart skipped a beat, his eyes shot open, and he tried to stand up. 

Hopeful, he looked to Tony, who was walking into the living room. 

If he was a dog, he’d be wagging his tail. 

Tony takes a sharp turn past Peter. He doesn’t even make eye contact. Peter opened his mouth to call out to him, but he stopped himself short when Natasha climbs across his lap. 

Steve walked into the living room next, but he also doesn’t pay attention to Peter. He and Bucky stumble into a messy kiss, ignoring the rest of the world. They settle comfortably on the recliner, chasing each other’s lips slowly. 

Peter hates this even more. 

Having the others in front of him but too far out of his reach is torture. 

No one has yet to even acknowledge his existence. 

He doesn’t even last five minutes before he starts crying again. 

“Please,” he called out, only to be ignored. “Please!” 

Sam stopped in front of him. Peter craned his neck up, happy to even have someone’s eyes on him. “Mr. Wilson, I’m so, so sorry for being bad. I’m so sorry, please let me make it up to you. I won’t insult you again.” 

Sam cracked a smile. “I think we found a good punishment for him,” he said. He cupped his cheek, and Peter pushed his face against it. “Baby boy can’t stand the lack of attention.” Peter flinched. If his face hadn’t already been ruined from the torture, he’d be blushing. “Isn’t that right?” 

Peter gave a sniffle and nodded. “Yes, sir,” he confessed in a barely audible voice. 

Sam reached forward, and Peter yelped at the hand on his cock. “Mr. Wilson, please, please, don’t--” His cries stopped short as the ring was slipped off. He relaxed against the walls, finally able to breathe. 

Bucky, breaking his kiss with Steve, climbed off the chair to kneel down and grab the bullet off of the ground. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to drop it,” he apologized, cringing. 

“I believe you,” Bucky said, cupping the other side of his face. “I think he’s truly sorry. What do you think, Sam?” 

Peter nodded his head eagerly. Sam uncuffed his feet first. When his hands were uncuffed, Bucky was ready to catch him in open arms. 

“Thank you,” Peter exhaled, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder to steady himself. He balanced himself on his two feet and was about to thank him again when he was yanked by the hair. 

Bucky gripped him so his ear was against his mouth. “Next time you drop it, I’ll send you to bed with three of them taped inside of you. Got it?” 

He had no doubt he was making a promise. “Yes, sir,” he nodded nervously, careful not to piss him off anymore. “Thank you, sir.” 

The hand in his hair scratched his head, sending his messy curls in every direction. Bucky grabbed ahold of him and sank back on the recliner. 

Bucky and Steve both took a hand and inspected his wrists. “They don’t hurt too bad, do they?” Steve asked. 

“Nope,” Peter said. “Besides, a little bit of pain isn’t the  _ worst  _ thing in the world.” 

Bucky grinned and gave a playful slap to his ass. “Cheeky little thing,” he said, squeezing his asscheek. 

Peter let out a yawn, eyelids started to droop. “You tired, doll?” 

“Huh? No,” he lied, snapping himself awake. Even as he straightened up, he went back to slouching. 

“Oh, Petey,” Tony sang from where he and Natasha were  _ still  _ going at it. She sat atop of his lap with her legs wrapped around him. “No lying, sweetheart.” 

“I…” He fumbled with his hands. “I guess I’m a lil’ tired.” 

“Let’s go get you washed up,” Sam said, hand on his hip when Peter’s eyes widened dramatically. 

“What? I can take a shower by myself, Mr. Wilson.” 

“Just Sam right now,” he corrected. “Come here, lil’ boomer.” 

“You…” He narrowed his eyes. Sam shot him a look, and Peter decided not to push it. “I can take a shower on my own.” 

“I know,” he said. “But I want to.” 

A rosy pink blush dusted his cheeks. “I…” 

“Go on, doll,” Bucky urged, pushing Peter off of his lap. He nodded hesitantly before gripping on to Sam’s hand. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

Peter blinked in confusion until Bucky stole a quick kiss. He squeaked and stumbled back only to be caught by Sam, who in turn stole another kiss. “Wha--?” 

Getting the message, Peter walked over to Steve and gave him a quick kiss, which Steve was having none of. He grabbed the back of his head and pulled him roughly against his mouth, and kissed him. When he was done, he simply let go of Peter, smiled, and motioned towards the others. 

He gave Bruce a kiss on the cheek, Clint gave him a biting kiss, and when he got to Tony and Nat, his hesitance was settled for him when Nat gave him a soft kiss. “Get you something to eat, baby.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, not able to hold down his smile when Tony pulled him into a long kiss. 

He waddled off back to Sam. “M’kay, I’m ready,” he mumbled sleepily. 

He didn’t remember the walk back to their room. He remembers bits and pieces. He went up to Sam’s bedroom, and he washed him, leaving no area untouched. He dressed him in a satin red set and one of his hoodies. He was fed something too, but he doesn’t remember what. Only that it tasted good. 

When he woke up the next day, he was buried in the couch next to bucky and Sam. 

He let out a loud yawn, cringing at his sore throat. He slowly sat up in between the two dozing men. Raising his arms over his head, he basked in the rays of sunlight pouring into the living room. 

He was  _ floating.  _

An arm snuck around his neck and he was yanked back towards the couch. “Ah, Sergeant Barnes!” he yelped. The man hissed at him and tightened his arm, holding the flailing boy closer to his body. 

“Shh,” he hushed. “Wouldn’t wanna wake Sam, would you?” 

Peter went lax in his grip and rolled over so he could face Bucky. They were nose to nose on the big couch that barely fit all three of them. “Hi,” he greeted shyly, blushing. 

“Hi, yourself,” Bucky replied in that unfairly deep voice of his. He took advantage of him being stunned and kissed him, catching his surprised “eep!” He chuckled against his lips. “Why don’t you go wake Steve up?” 

Steve was passed out in the recliner. Usually he’d be the first one up, but he didn’t wake up at his usual time. 

Peter bit his lip. “He looks so peaceful… He won’t be mad?” 

“Trust me, he won’t be mad if he wakes up with your mouth on his dick.” 

Careful not to wake up Sam, he climbed off the couch on shaky legs and crawled over Steve, careful not to put too much weight on him. 

Looking over to Bucky for support (who in turn gave him a thumbs up), he untucked Steve’s cock out of his sweatpants and stroked it gently. 

On nerves, he inspected his cock, experimentally licking a long stripe along the side of it. Steve’s dick looked gigantic in Peter’s small hands, and it made it that much more intimidating. 

“Don’t be afraid to touch him, doll,” Bucky said gently. Yeah. Peter could do that. He brushed his fingers against his inner thigh just how Bucky did to him the day before. 

Peter cupped his balls with one hand and used the other to hold him steady as he popped his mouth over his cock, trying to force himself to take it all the way to the base. Unsuccessful, he popped off. 

“Baby doll, it’s not all about speed,” Bucky said, chuckling at Peter’s enthusiasm as he tried to force it back into his mouth quickly. 

“I--” Bucky pulled his cock out of his satin panties and slowly slid down his small cock. He popped off to lick a long stripe along the side, running his hands up and down a couple times before swirling his tongue over the head of his cock. “Ah-! Bucky--!” 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Bucky said, pulling off of his cock and tapping Peter’s nose. “That’s not my name, right now, is it?” 

“Sergeant Barnes,” he corrected quickly. 

“Good boy,” he praised. “Why aren’t you still sucking Steve’s cock?” 

“Oh!” Peter went back to work, mimicking everything Bucky did to him. 

Tears pricked at his eyes as he tried to force the cock down deeper into his throat. A low moan slipped out, quickly changing into a shriek when a hand clasped the back of his head and forced him further. He choked on the dick and struggled to breathe while his mouth was forced up and down. 

“So impatient, Stevie,” Bucky hummed. 

Peter’s eyes fluttered open to see Steve, face red. “You’re teaching him to be a tease,” he growled. 

“Didn’t you know? We like teasing around here,” Bucky said, grabbing Peter’s cock again. “Isn’t that right, doll?” 

Peter frowned, but when Bucky squeezed, he hit the side of the chair. “Yes, sir!” he squeaked, voice coming out muffled around the aching cock in his mouth. 

“I’m trying to be a teacher here, Steve. Try not to come down his throat like a highschooler.”

His tongue swirled over the head of his cock, and Steve’s fingers tightened in his hair. Steve let out a loud moan, only encouraging him to do it again. 

He felt Steve’s legs squeeze, and he knew he was close. He did it a couple more times before pulling off abruptly. 

Grinning maliciously, he wiped the spit off his chin and looked at Steve, who didn’t enjoy his trick as much as he did. “Think you’re being funny, huh?” 

Bucky, amused, said, “Now you know how I feel when I deal with you, brat.” Peter frowned and shot Bucky a hurt look. “I can call you a whore but not a brat?” Bucky ruffled his hair. “You know you’re a good boy. Right now, anyways.” 

Peter hummed his appreciation, the act not going unnoticed by Steve, who let out a strangled moan. Not missing the effect it had, Peter hummed again before pulling off abruptly. 

Steve let out an inhumane growl. “Better be careful, doll,” Bucky warned. “Tease him too much and you might regret it.” 

Fuck that. 

It felt  _ great  _ to be on the other side for once. Like hell he wasn’t going to do it again. 

Peter ran his mouth ever so slowly. 

It didn’t take long for Steve to get sick of that. 

He was about to bob his head once more when Steve, apparently done with his shit, grabbed ahold of his head and forced his cock down his throat. Peter moaned around it, accepting the roughness and letting Steve use his mouth until he was coming hard down his throat. He swallowed what he could while the rest of it dribbled down his chin. 

“Told you,” Bucky whistled, standing up. 

“Whoa, Cap--” 

“Shut up,” he said, and Peter did, stunned. “Don’t move.” Steve left the room in a hurry. 

“What just happened?” Peter asked, blinking in confusion. 

“Yeah, Stevie doesn’t care for the teasing too much,” Bucky said, grinning. He knows all too well from experience. “I warned you.” 

“Yeah, well, nothing can be worse than yesterday.” Bucky hummed, waving at him as he walked away. “Can it? Wait, Bucky!” 

His heart raced as he watched Bucky walk out of the living room. “Why the fuck are you so loud?” 

Sam. Oh thank god. “Mr. Wilson, I think I messed up.” 

Sam slowly sat up on the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Already? Why am I not surprised?” He sighed loudly. “Are you gonna keep whining or can I go back to sleep?” Steve returned with a box in hand. A wild grin spread across his face. “That answers that one.” He climbed off the couch and escaped into the kitchen. 

_ Oh.  _

Steve opened his box.

_ Oh, shit.  _

“Up against the wall.” 

Peter didn’t move. 

He knew he should, follow orders. This entire arrangement was based on him being submissive. 

Yet, he didn’t want to move. He was already in trouble. Might as well make the most of it. 

“...No,” he said, stomping his foot a little. 

“No?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. 

_ Fuck, what have I done?  _

Peter melted the second Steve shot him that look, but he stayed in his stance. “N-No,” he managed, unable to hide the tremble in his voice. 

“What happened to not being a brat?” Steve asked, and Peter was done for. He didn’t want to be a brat. “Where’d my good boy go?” 

“I--” He cut himself short. “I’m sorry.” He was, truly. 

“Against the wall.” 

… 

He was sorry, but if he was going to get punished anyways… 

“Make me.” 

A low whistle sounded. “So that’s how it’s going to be?” 

Peter was deathly still. “Yeah. Got a problem with it?” 

It took Steve two swift strides across the room to grab Peter by his collar and throw him up against the wall. Steve’s gripped Peter’s throat with one hand while the other snuck into the waistband of his trousers and lightly cupped his hard cock. “Now I know you don’t mean that,” he purred. “Who’s in charge here?” 

“Fuck you,” he rasped out. Steve released his grip, gently nudging Peter to turn so his back is pressed against the wall. 

Clearing his throat, Steve raised a cautious eyebrow. “I’m sorry, doll, you wanna repeat that?” 

“Fuck me,” Peter said, heart pounding. “Please, sir, you’re in charge.” 

“And who does the teasing?” he asked, sneaking a hand under his shirt to play with his nipple. 

“You, sir,” he replied. Then, he added, “And everyone else in this compound.” 

Steve, unamused, shot him a questioning look. Peter quieted after that. “You do know you’re in trouble, right?” Peter bit his lip. “I know you’re a good boy, couldn’t even act out for more than a minute.” He cupped a hand to his cheek, and Peter leaned into it. “I still have to punish you. Do you understand?” Peter nodded. 

“Are you… going to spank me?” 

Steve grinned. “I think you’d enjoy that too much.” Peter didn’t deny it. “Punishments are most effective when they directly tie in with the infraction, don’t you think?” 

_ Uh oh.  _

Peter didn’t like where he was going with this at all. 

If he could tell anything from the feral look on Steve’s face… yeah. He was in for it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to update this before school started and i didn't get a chance to update again,,,, ik it's short im sorry 
> 
> as always, comment if u enjoyed! thank y'all for ur support <3
> 
> also if y'all wanted to request shit or talk to me, hmu on my tumbler @precious-peterparker


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's punishment 
> 
> disclaimer: peter cries a lot in this chapter (all of it is consensual!)

“Am I boring you?”

The sun was at its peak now. Rays of blinding sunlight streamed into the living room where Peter was pressed up against the wall with Steve’s hips into his back. He tugged down his shorts and went to his knees. 

“N-No,” Peter stammered, confused. Steve places a hand on his thigh to spread his cheeks apart. “That’s not it at all.” 

“Then tell me,” Steve said, licking a stripe across his perineum. Peter gasped ever so softly. He pushed his forehead against the wall. “What’s got you so distracted? During your own punishment?” 

“It’s morning,” Peter mumbled. “Anyone could walk in.” 

“Ah,” Steve said, tsking as he brushed his gloved finger over his hole, “Don’t want anyone to see you like this?” The question floated in the air. Peter didn’t choose to reply to that, and Steve took the perfect chance to gently prod at his asshole. 

Peter stiffened, eyes crinkling at the stretch. He raised his fist to bite down a moan, an act he knows would piss Steve off, but he didn’t think he’d be able to tell from his position. He bites down hard enough to leave a mark on his skin, but he can’t find it in him to care. He knows one finger isn’t much at all compared to his dick, but Steve’s got insanely large hands. 

Peter  _ loves  _ his hands, and he knows damn well how much they drive him crazy. Sometimes Peter imagines him fucking him from the back, and when Peter gets too noisy, he uses his fingers to fill up his mouth, just to make him shut up. 

Right now, that same hand is using two of its fingers to stretch him open. His eyes, squeezed tightly shut from the pain, fly open when he flattened his tongue against his hole. He worked a finger slowly at a steady pace as his tongue licked and explored. 

“Or,” Steve said, smirking, “Are you just ashamed? Don’t want your masters to know you’re getting punished?” 

_ Fuck you, Cap.  _

He sees right through him every single time. 

“Cat got your tongue?” 

Turns out, when Steve snaps into a hard dom, he’s a smartass. 

“Do I need to tell the others how bad you’ve been? How their good little boy lost his mind?” 

“Mhm, no, sir!” Peter cried in bliss. He reached at the wall for something to hang on to, but there was nothing. “I’ll be good. I promise.” 

“Good boys don’t try and hide what’s not theirs.” Steve kept a steady pressure of his tongue as he worked in his fingers. Sensing him freeze, he added, “You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice you not crying out like a whore?” The familiar heat burned in his lower stomach, and he clenched his thighs. “No, Peter.” But he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop, and Peter was getting close. “No.” 

Panic started to rise. He was going to come, and he was going to get punished even more for it. His chest tightened just as he was about to come, but all panic subsided when he pulled away suddenly. It hit Peter like a bus. Reeling, he once again tried to grip on to the wall. “Fuck!” 

“Language,” Steve said, tsking. “Really, I’m starting to think you want to get punished more.” 

“Wasn’t...Ah, wasn’t my intention, sir,” he said, taking advantage of the break to gain his breathing back. His break was short-lived when a skinny dildo, the size of two of his fingers, slipped past his muscle. It switched on to a low buzz, and Peter clenched around it. Steve pulled it back and forth as he ate him out. 

Precome leaked from the tip of his cock on to the wall. He knew he’d be paying it later, but he was focusing on not coming, which was hard to do when Steve was making it all he could think about. 

He sped up his pacing, pulling the toy out and shoving it back in. Peter’s mouth gaped, but as soon as he got comfortable, he stopped. He went back to his continuous pace, and Peter let out a string of cries as he got closer. 

Steve read his mind and gave a feather brush against his cock, and it was just enough to bring him close again. “Ah, ah, f…!” he cut himself short even as the pressure went away, and he was left reeling. 

His hand went to grip the wall and went through it instead. 

Stunned, he blinked a few times. “I… I’m so sorry.” 

He turned his head to face Steve, who was wiping his face to leave a mischevious grin. “Guess we will be telling Tony, huh?” Peter fumed silently, trying to lessen the burning in his cheeks. “Later, though. You’re all mine right now.” 

He whipped Peter around so that his back was against the wall. Steve stole a kiss, letting him melt into it. He felt him go lax and scooped him up over his shoulder easily. He didn’t forget to grab the toolbox on his way out. 

He hated the way he enjoyed the slightest bump against his cock, how desperate he was. Like a dumb teenager. 

The manhandling wasn’t helping either. Steve threw him on the large bed, the one in the room designed specifically for the team’s unwinding sessions, and climbed on top of him to still him. 

Steve searched through the box without a sense of urgency. Peter tried to distract himself, but it was impossible - especially when he’s sitting all of his weight on top of him. 

He guesses he found what he wanted because Steve smiles and pulls out… 

A blindfold. 

Peter lifted his head automatically for him to tie it around his eyes. Peter gulps nervously, letting his head fall against the mattress. He spreads his legs, and Steve lets out a dark laugh. “Relax, baby.” He rubbed his hand over his thigh. “Have some patience.” 

He was at the end of his string. He couldn’t. 

Steve climbed off of him. It was silent in the room for a moment until the shuffling of the box broke it. 

The bed sunk beside him, and he stiffened in anticipation. He was waiting for a smack or a torturous hand or a toy or… something, anything really. 

Not a feather, though. 

Peter squeaked, shying away from the touch. Steve held him steady, making sure he couldn’t get away. He trailed it across his neck, down his chest, around his nipples, drew circles with it into his hips. 

Peter bucked up, letting out a maniac giggle. “This is still a punishment, Peter,” he said, but he could hear the grin in his voice. There’s the soft dom he knew so well. 

He was cruely aware of the fact that this was, in fact, still a punishment. He dropped the feather soon after, but he didn’t stop there. 

Steve was a practical guy. He was a strong believer in “you have to do it yourself to get it done right.” 

His fingers buried into his sides. He was trying to drive him crazy every way he knew how. And it was completely working. “Please,” Peter cackled, throwing his head back, “Stop! Stop! Cap, I’m going to die!” 

“Good,” he said, pleased. “That means this is working.” 

Peter let out a groan. The tickling faded and replaced with his evil mouth. Steve licked the side of his neck. Peter squirmed, craning his head to the side. Steve bit down, sucking on his neck gently. He continued on, leaving no area left untouched. 

Well. One area. 

Steve cautiously avoided his cock, but everywhere else was free game. He licked, caressed, bit every inch of his skin. 

Peter was trembling like a leaf once he pulled back. “Cap, Cap, Cap,” he said, reaching out blindly for him. He caught his hand and intertwined his fingers with his. “Please touch me.” 

“More?” he asked, using his free hand to pinch his inner thigh. 

Peter yelped, bringing his knee up. “Captain, I’m so sorry! I learned my lesson.” Steve trailed his fingers down his side. He arched away from the touch. “Please, let me come.” 

“See, I don’t think you did learn your lesson,” he said, tongue swiping across his lips. 

Peter could not lay still. He writhed on the bed, gripping his hand in a death grip. His thighs were tensed up, and the slightest touch to him caused him to buck up. 

And when he finally put his mouth on his cock? Steve thought he’d cry. 

He didn’t. Not at first. 

Not until three fingers slipped into his asshole. He swiped his tongue over the head of his cock as his fingers fucked in and out of him. “Cap!” he cried, the first salty tear caught by the blindfold. “Oh, god, Cap, please! Please!” 

His fingers sunk into he was knuckle deep. Steve popped off of his cock and licked the precome off of his stomach as he convulsed from the edge. Peter lets out a pathetic mewl and kicks. 

“I think he likes your fingers.” 

_ Bucky.  _

He hadn’t even heard the door open! 

… 

Steve didn’t lock the door. Of course Steve didn’t lock the door. Meaning… 

“We could hear you from the living room.” 

_ We?  _

He slipped his finger back in, exploring this time, almost as if he’s looking for something. His chest rises and falls rapidly. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. 

He might be drooling. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Steve said, bringing a hand to his lips as he fucks him with his finger. Without being told, he engulfed the finger. “You like my fingers, baby?” 

He only recently learned how to perform fellatico, but he already knows he loves it. 

The bed sunk again. Two divots on each side. Someone else was in here too. 

Steve brushes against his prostate suddenly, and Peter screamed, a tear escaping the blindfold. It must’ve been what he was looking for because Peter is manueavered on to his hands and knees. He sticks his ass in the air and tries to swallow his shame. 

“Why don’t you tell Tony what you did?” he purred, slapping his ass. Peter yelps, burying his face into the mattress. A firm hand in his hair pulls his head up. “You don’t want to prolong your punishment, do you?” 

“I’m sorry,” Peter cried, mind going hazey. It was hard to think of anything else than how badly he needed Steve to fill his ass, to touch him, to mark him, to make him his. “I… Please, I’m so sorry, I’ll be good… Please, please fuck me! Please!” Peter couldn’t take it. Another tear streamed down his face. “Please, please, please, I…” 

There was a silence. Then, “Well, Rogers? What’re you waiting for?” 

That was Tony. 

Tony moved towards his head, petting his hair comfortably. Steve lined his cock up with his asshole, and that was enough for Peter to cry harder out of frustration. “I need it so bad, sir…!” 

“Fill his mouth with something to make him shut up,” Sam said, and he eagerly nodded. 

Tony slipped his cock into his mouth, and Peter went to work, trying to egg Steve into moving. As soon as Tony let out a surprised gasp, Steve pushed in. 

He was clawing at the mattress. He could hear the sound of breathing, mouths chasing each other, and he realized Sam and Bucky were making out… to this. To him. 

“Like what we taught him?” Bucky said, sounding a little out of breath. 

“A natural talent,” Tony praised, and Peter soaked it up. Though, he’ll admit, his blowjob would be going a lot better if he wasn’t so distracted. 

Steve was slowly sinking in, slowly retreating, before driving back in. Peter gripped at the mattress even tighter, moaning around Tony’s cock in his mouth when someone yanked at his hair. “Thank you, thank you,” Peter sang, drool pooling out of his mouth. “Ah!” 

When Steve pulled out, he let out a harsh sob. “Shh,” Steve hushed. A tongue lapped up at his runaway tears. 

Then he wasn’t empty anymore. 

Steve gripped on to his hips as tightly as he could and slammed into him as deep as he could. Dick pushing against his prostate, Peter screamed, “Daddy, fuck, please let me come!” His legs were shaking so much that they were burning now. When the thrusting stopped, he lifted his head in confusion. 

Oh. 

_ Oh.  _

_ Oh no.  _

Peter’s breath caught in his throat. He can’t believe he just said that. Did he really just say that? He’s such a freak, how could he have been so careless? 

He started to move, but the hands on his hips had a better idea. His back was pushed up against the bed, and a soft hand carressed his cheek. 

He was thankful for the blindfold covering his eyes because he kept him from having to face the others. He couldn’t look at them right now. Not after calling him… that… of all things. 

The hand carressing his cheek pulls his blindfold off of his eyes. His brown eyes blink to try and adjust to the brightness of the room, and when they do, he sees an lust-filled Tony and a shocked Steve. Sam doesn’t look surprised at all, and Bucky looks like he’s about to pounce. 

“What’d you just say, baby?” Tony asked, rubbing his cheek. 

There was no coming back from this one. 

“What’re you talking about?” he asked, adding a nervous laugh. Can’t blame a spider for trying. 

“Uh-uh, I’m not letting you get away with that so easily,” Steve said, really running with it. “Come on, say it again, baby.” 

Peter shyed away from his touch, but Tony guided his chin to face them. “Daddy,” he admitted at last, heart beating against his rib cage. 

Steve kissed him ferally. “Fuck, Parker, you’re really something,” Sam hissed. Steve buried himself in his ass, and Peter resorted to babbling uselessly. 

A muffled grunt was the only warning he got before Steve spilled into his ass. Warmth spread, and he pushed back onto him, trying to chase it. He was so, so close himself. He just needed a little… 

Steve pulled out. 

Shocked, he didn’t speak this time. He was at a loss. The tears streamed down his face, but he didn’t complain this time. 

“Aw, baby, you didn’t think I’d let you come during a punishment, did you?” Steve purred, kissing his tears. “You took it so well.” Peter hiccuped softly as something prodded his ass, but he knew he wouldn’t be getting any relief from it. Steve slapped the plug once all the cum was safely inside. “Who do you belong to?”

“You, sir.” 

Steve tsk’ed. “That’s not my name, now is it?” 

Peter’s cheeks burned. Really? After all this? He’s going to make him say it? 

He grabbed the plug, pushing it in deeper. “Ah, daddy, you! I belong to you!” he cried, legs stretching so his toes can curl. “You’re really not going to let me come?” 

Bucky laughed darkly. “I told you not Steve doesn’t like being teased.” 

“No, I don’t.” He was stoic, straight-faced. He didn’t doubt that for a second. 

“When can I come?” Peter whined, earning a couple slaps to his ass. “Ah!” 

“You belong to us,” Tony reminded him. “We get to decide when you come, not you.” 

Friday interrupted the session with a calm, “Sir, breakfast has been prepared.” 

Everyone started to get up, and Peter scrambled to sit on his knees. “This is so unfair,” he cried, reaching out to grab on to Tony. 

“Unfair?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Bucky.” 

“Yup.” A cock ring was passed from him to Tony, and the dreaded thing was rolled on to the base of his cock. 

“Mr. Stark--” 

“Ah-ah-ah, you’re not listening,” Tony said, tapping his nose. Peter froze, submitting to him instantly. “Good boy. You’re learning.” With that, the plug in his ass started vibrating. 

What exactly did he get himself into?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok next chapter will end this work! obvi i'll make sequels and shit but like i really wanna stick to longer one shots bc they're easier to keep up with then these large multi chapters.
> 
> anyways, if anyone has a request, pls hit up my tumblr at precious-peterparker and maybe donate to my kofi /softdadironman I'd appreciate it!
> 
> I really wanna start writing requests so go hmu there!! and as always, leave a comment if u enjoyed! thank y'all sm

**Author's Note:**

> huzzah! hoping u guys will like this series! 
> 
> if you’d like to see more, let me know!! (And, please, NO CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICSM.)


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